


Gone, Vegas

by Love (crazylove)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Las Vegas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylove/pseuds/Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson, Mark and Jaebum's first night in Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone, Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Nutty Nomad's interview when Jackson said he wanted to go to Vegas with Mark! ... and JB.

As soon as the plane touched down, Jackson felt electric. He peered over Mark's lap at the electric tangle of lights straining against the slowly darkening sky. He didn't need the pilot to tell them. They were in Vegas. He was sure even a blind man would be able to see this.

"Jackson," Mark mumbled, weakly trying to push him off but Jackson didn't budge. He felt if he could lean out the window they would be there, right in the middle of it all.

"Yeah!" Jackson shouted as the seatbelt sign dinged off. "We made it! We're here! Let's go. I got lots of money to win. Let's go let go let's go!"

He was speaking English, a combination of being in America and being with Mark. They spoke it mostly when they were together. Honestly, nowadays Jackson felt more comfortable in Korean and he figured Mark felt the same, but there was something about having a semi-secret language when they were laying together in the dark. Besides, he needed to keep in practice anyway.

Luggage started to come down. People in the seats up front were rising. Jackson stared out the window even as Mark pushed him more forcefully and whined. Mark's hair was messy and he wasn't wearing make-up so he looked a little less untouchable than usual but still part of another dimension, his most natural beauty still unworldly. That was exactly the reason Jackson wanted to touch him. He tried not to think about it.

"Seriously!" Mark grunted. Then he was pressing into Jackson, reaching over him and calling, "Jae, help!"

Jackson sat up straight right away. Jaebum was easy to forget, mostly because he managed to sleep the entire way, like practically 24 hours straight or however long it took them to get there. Jackson was pretty sure Jaebum was still sleeping during their layover in San Diego, even though they switched planes. He was sleeping now, purple mask over his eyes. Jackson kicked Jaebum’s foot. Only then did Jaebum pull up the eye mask and look over at him, one eye open but that was enough for Jackson to tell that he was somewhat annoyed.

“We’re here by the way!” Jackson informed him.

Jaebum pulled the mask off, folding it neatly and slipping it in the case that he had stashed in the seat pocket in front of him.

“Yes, I know,” Jaebum said, evenly. Korean, of course. Jaebum could speak English decently, he just didn’t most of the time. “I believe you’re loud enough that you could take over announcements for the whole plane.”

Mark burst out laughing and Jackson alternates between wanting to slug Mark in the arm or glare at Jaebum. In the end he doesn’t do either, he just scowls to himself. Excuse him for wanting to have fun. And he knows that Jaebum is just joking (plus most likely grumpy for all that sleeping) but that kind of stuff really got to him sometime.

“I’m just excited!” Jackson said defensively. Jaebum nodded, rising to his feet and nearly hitting his head on the top of the plane. Mark stood up too as the drain of people leaving the plane slowly rolled towards them. Jaebum got everyone’s luggage down. Jackson slid his snapback over his head and swung on his backpack. They shuffled out with the rest of the sea of people through the suffocating tunnel off the plane and through that strange airport vacuum that was all metal walls and scratchy carpet until—finally—they were free. And the big sign beckoned them from above.

Welcome to Vegas.

“Oh!” Jackson said, forgetting whatever funk he’d been in earlier as soon as he saw it. “They have slot machines right here. Oh wow!”

He hurried over before Jaebum, the voice of reason, could stop him. The bored looking lady at the attendant stand didn’t even bother checking his idea. He had American money already and fed the slot machine a five dollar bill. It was based on the Price is Right which seemed unnaturally cool for some reason.

“Look at this!” Jackson said, waving them over. There wasn’t a big lever to pull. He pushed a button to make the bet. He watched the electronic display spin until he stopped and the lines zigzagged everywhere. He won 20 credits, which in reality was about 20 cents.

“Sweet,” Jackson said. “I’m already a winner.”

Mark stood beside him and draped an arm over his shoulder, peering down at the game. He felt Jaebum sit on the stool beside him and stifle a loud yawn. Jackson pushed the bet button again but this time he wasn’t so much aware of how the screen was moving. He was much more aware of Mark’s warmth against him, Mark’s solid arm around his shoulders and Mark’s gentle breath ghosting over his ear.

“Ohhhhh…” Mark said. The screen flashed once. There were no fancy bells and whistles when you lost.

“These machines are probably rigged,” Jaebum said.

“I won the first time!” Jackson protested. But 5 spins later, he was down two dollars so he cashed out, the machine spitting out a simple piece of paper that was supposed to add up to real money.

“Good job,” Mark said, giving Jackson a thumbs up. On Mark, sarcasm was a good thing. It meant he was in a good mood. Jackson couldn’t help smiling back.

“Yeah, the magic touch,” he said. He liked the bags under Mark’s eyes, at least when they were gentle and friendly, not when they were deep and aggressive from a gross lack of sleep. Then he just wanted to hide Mark in a closet or something, for his own good. But right now, they were perfect.

“So are you going to waste your money all in one place or should we get our bags?” Jaebum said, bringing Jackson back to his senses. He swiveled on his stool to face Jaebum. He wondered if Jaebum knew that he was the third wheel.

But no, Jackson felt guilty for even thinking that way. That was just this crazy part of him talking, the part that he could never quite shake. He wanted Jaebum to come. Hell, he invited him. They were friends. All of them. They paid for this trip out of their own pockets. It was their time to be together, the three adults, the oldest. To relate to each other in a different way than they usually could. Jackson told himself to focus on that.

Because that other thing? It wasn’t going to happen.

Sometimes Jackson spoke loudly to drown out the other voices in his head.

“Hey!” he practically shouted. The attendant looked up for a moment and glared. But there were people all around, walking through the airport, going and coming, none of them focused on these three Asian men crowded around a random slot machine.

“We need a plan,” Jackson said. Mark sat on the edge of the stool of Jackson’s other side and stretched his long legs in front of him.

“What kind of plan?” Mark asked.

“A cover story,” Jackson said. “It’s Vegas. What happens here, stays.”

“You mean like new names?”

“No, just a story,” Jackson said. He looked between the both of them. Jaebum seemed to be listening. Mark was leaning in towards him. Jackson had to take a deep breath. “I just want to have a vacation. A regular, normal vacation. We are in Vegas. We can be anyone.”

“International pop stars,” Jaebum said dryly. Mark had that stupid grin on his face. Stupid only because it made Jackson’s heart skip a beat and that was so _stupid_.

“Completely different!” Jackson said. Loudly because he needed to. “I was thinking… we can pretend… I’m Mark’s friend and Jaebum, you’re visiting him from Korea and he took us to Vegas. We’re all in university. Normal guys.”

“Ohhhhh…” God, Mark wouldn’t get that smile off his face. “Right. That sounds fun.”

“Exchange student,” Jaebum said in English.

“Yeah, like that,” Jackson said. “So… got it?”

“That’s fun,” Mark said, rising off his stool. Jackson felt confident that Mark could pass for the typical Asian-American college student. After all, he was a California boy. Jackson thought he could too—at least until he opened his mouth. Americans were very aware of accents. But Jaebum had that look about him, Jackson couldn’t explain. Maybe it was his posture or the sleepy slant of his eyes that always remained, even when he wasn’t actually sleepy. Jaebum was striking, if you really looked at him, in a way that most Americans probably didn’t even know about. So, yeah, exchange student from Korea was the best plan.

“Let’s go. Bed. Hotel,” Jaebum said, still speaking English. Jackson hopped off the stool. Being short was a bitch.

Traveling to Vegas meant traveling back in time. They were on the other side of the world. It was early afternoon in Korean, the next day. But in Vegas, the night was only beginning. Jaebum curled up against the window when they were in the taxi and conked out again. Jackson didn’t know how he could sleep with all the lights in their face. They hit the strip in full around the MGM Grand and kept crawling down the street, like they were in an endless parade. Jackson felt surrounded by casinos he had only seen on TV.

“Whoa!” Mark said, pointing. This time Mark was in the middle. Jackson followed his gaze to a billboard truck that said GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS.

“Our hit song?” Jackson joked.

“Girls directly to your room?” Mark read. “What does that mean?”

Jackson snorted. Then Mark said “oh” and turned all red in the face and not just because of the ambulance racing by.

“Should we write the number down?”

“Jackson, no!” Mark swatted him, horrified, and then they both started laughing. Jackson wondered what would happen if they went to a strip club or something. Then the taxi stopped and they were there at the Palazzo, a hotel that looked like it was truly meant to be a palace for a real king.

Their room was on a floor so high that Jackson’s ears popped on the way up. The room had two beds and a sweet bathroom on one level and a few steps led down to the lower level with a large sectional couch and bay windows that looked right over the strip so he could see Treasure Island and the elegant Trump Tower.

“I wanna drink!” Jackson announced, staring at the view. The bellhop delivered all the bags and scurried off after Mark tipped him. Jaebum was in the bathroom. Jackson could hear the shower running. Mark stood behind him, peering over his shoulder.

“I want to drink, too,” Mark confessed.

“What are we drinking? There’s free drinks in the casino. Let’s gamble. I don’t wanna wait!” Jackson screamed the last part. He hoped Jaebum could hear him over the pounding water.

“Yeah, we can go downstairs,” Mark said. “And I’ll text Jaebum to find us when he’s ready. But hold on.”

Jackson turned away from the view as Mark ambled over to his suitcase. He popped it open and pulled off his shirt. No matter how many times Jackson saw Mark naked or half-naked he never got used to it. Jackson pretended to study a Vegas guidebook as Mark changed his shirt, but really he was focusing on the way his sinew arm muscles flexed as he tugged his new t-shirt over his head. Mark raked his fingers through his hair, glancing in the mirror. Jackson left his hat on the coffee table.

“You look fine!” Jackson said. He barked the words impatiently, shouting through that little tug in his heart.

“Okay, let’s go,” Mark said. They left, the door shutting quietly behind them.

Downstairs, the casino was anything but quiet. They found two side-by-side slots that looked like a car racing video game. But it was just bets and pulls, symbols spinning along at a dizzying pace and then those crazy lines that Jackson never understood, but somehow that’s what determined if you won or not. Mark knocked his hand into Jackson’s shoulder.

“Watch!” he said, pointing at his screen. It was a bonus that played out like a movie, cars zooming around on the large, HD screen just above and Mark’s whole seat was vibrating like he was actually driving the car and they were both laughing, watching the screen go through 20 free spins. At the end of all the theatrics, the slot machine rung out loudly, all celebratory noise and Mark’s credit count kept changing and growing and increasing until it was all over and even a few people had peeked over at all the commotion and noise.

Jackson couldn’t believe Mark won a thousand dollars.

“Whoa!” Jackson said. It was an understatement. Mark turned to him in shock.

“What do I do?” Mark asked. The slow machine was pretty much calmed down now, waiting for another bet.

“Cash-out, cash-out!” Jackson said. Mark slapped the button as if it was on fire. This time the white slip of paper meant so much more.

“Money, money, money, money!” Jackson chanted as they both stood up. As soon as they were gone, some old lady sat in Mark’s spot, immediately placing a bet.  Jackson snorted to himself and then lost his breath when Mark slipped his arm into his.

“College friend,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Jackson. “What do I do with my money?”

“Spend it on booze, college friend,” Jackson said, imitating him. “That’s what any college student would do!”

They gave Mark the money in cash, ten one-hundred dollar bills. Mark peeled off five of them and handed it to Jackson.

“It’s not good to keep it all in one place,” he said. “Now… drinks.”

They wandered through the hotel, past the fake Gondolas and painted blue sky of Venetian, until they reached this club called Tao.

“Is this where he ran off to?” Mark joked. “I thought he went to LA.”

Jackson laughed, loud and crazy. He didn’t care.

It wasn’t late so the club was fairly empty, but there were mostly girls around consuming free drinks paid for by party promoters. Jackson sat next to Mark as he texted Jaebum to tell him where he was. Then Mark placed a hundred on the bar counter.

“We want to order some drinks,” Mark said.

Jackson didn’t want to get drunk. He just wanted to experience Vegas. The people, the music, the lights, the sound. A DJ was spinning EDM music and the bass echoed off the walls. As the night got later, people crowded around them. They were drinking something with rum and it wasn’t particularly good but when the strobe lights pulsed just right he could see Mark’s red face and the way his Adam’s apple jutted out when he laughed, so it was all worth it.

“Where’s Jaebum?” Jackson yelled. There were more people and more music now so it was harder to talk. Mark leaned into him, smelling slightly like booze and money but mostly like Mark.

“What?” Mark said.

“Where’s—“ But his words were cut off and the question was instantly stripped from his mind because all of a sudden, Mark’s lips were on his.

His eyes flew open. He could see shadows and flashes of light and other people around him, but mostly Mark’s smooth skin and long eyelashes.

This couldn’t be happening. No, he was in a dream. Or, he was drunk. But Jackson didn’t feel _drunk_. He felt like he was slamming into the ground. Because he didn’t know what was happening right now. Mark, his teammate, his best friend, his—

There was nothing loud enough to drown out the beating of his heart in his ears. Not the din of the club or this pulsing music. Not even if he were to scream at the top of his lungs.

Not that he could, even if he wanted to.

Mark was _kissing_ him.

And then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

Jackson’s lips felt empty and slightly damp. Mark turned away in the darkness.

Then Jackson realized, as his heart pounded in a way that felt like he might explode from the inside out.

He didn’t kiss Mark back.

Mark took a shot that Jackson didn’t even know he’d ordered. He smiled at Jackson, a bit dumbly, with a reddening nose.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Korean. Not shouting, but Jackson heard every word. Before Jackson could say anything, before he could make a move, Mark was gone, swallowed up by the thickening crowd.

What had just happened?

The bartender shoved a pile of bills at him, mouthing the word “change.” Change. Jackson wished he could change. Wow, he would change _everything_.

A hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t Mark. Jaebum stood there, dressed neatly in a black t-shirt and dark, cuffed jeans. His hair was perfectly done. A hint of make-up on his face that probably no one else would notice. Jaebum would know what to do.

“Hey, I’m here,” Jaebum said, his English stilted by his accent that sounded unfamiliar in Jackson’s ears. Suddenly, he wanted to be surrounded by everything familiar. Back at home, in Seoul, in their dorm, where he’d lay in the bed across from Mark’s quietly, his desires merely fleeting, private thoughts in the darkness.

“Mark’s gone!” Jackson blurted out.

“Gone?” Jaebum repeated, tilting his head. He eased into the seat where Mark had once sat. _I’ll be right back._ How long had it been?

“He went… to the bathroom,” Jackson said, attempting to sound normal. There were girls on the other side making eyes at them. Fans? Just girls? Jackson closed his eyes.

“That is not gone,” Jaebum said. “What to drink?”

Jackson slid Jaebum the rest of his. He wanted to find Mark. He couldn’t move.

A Chris Brown song came on and everyone started jumping. The later it got, the more crowded it got and so many people were around the bar that it was getting hard to breathe. The girls were still looking. Mark was still gone.

Jaebum finished the drink. Jackson waved his twenty. He couldn’t feel anything. Not the alcohol, not the heat of the people around him, not the jet-lag, not the gentle press of Mark’s mouth against him. He was numb to everything crowding around him.

“Jackson!” Jaebum shouted his name. Jackson turned to him belatedly. Another couple of drinks were in front of him and he didn’t know where they’d come from.

Jaebum leaned into him. Numb to the light tickle of Jaebum’s breath against his ear.

“Where is Mark?” he asked, Korean now, serious.

“I told you,” Jackson replied. Miserably, though emotions were masked by bass lines. “He’s gone.”

“You said he went to the bathroom,” Jaebum said. “It’s been twenty minutes. I’ll go check.”

Once Jaebum was gone, one of the girls sat beside him. She swung the seat side to side and stared at him, as if he couldn’t tell underneath the red party hats.

“You’re really hot,” she told him, in a low voice, blonde, with her boobs spilling out of her low cut top. Jackson kept his gaze high.

“No, I’m not,” he replied. But he was. He was sweating, dampness spreading underneath his bangs.

“He’s not there,” Jaebum reported, a few minutes later. He tugged Jackson off the stool. They walked to a quieter spot in the club, near the VIP couches. Jackson stood there while Jaebum dialed Mark’s phone over and over again.

“This is unusual,” Jaebum said. “This is not like him. Did you two drink a lot? Tell the truth.”

“Maybe he met a girl he liked,” Jackson said and then he laughed hysterically. He laughed like he couldn’t stop. Jaebum dragged him out, pass the velvet rope that separated dozens of ladies from the entrance. They looked at him strangely, all tall American girls in high heels and short skirts. Outside the club was a mall area with closed down stores. Jackson stood in the middle of it and laughed until Jaebum made him sit on a bench.

“You shouldn’t drink so much!” Jaebum barked, snapping his fingers in Jackson’s face. “Stop it!”

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things!” Jackson yelled back. “I shouldn’t have invited you. You shouldn’t _be_ here.”

Jaebum flinched, a darkness clouding over his face that Jackson hadn’t seen before. He wanted to take that back, just like the thoughts in his head. But it was too late now.

Jaebum looked away first. Numb, numb, numb, creeping up Jackson’s throat, slowly, as if it wanted to suffocate him.

“We have to find Mark,” Jaebum said, quietly. “If something happens to him…”

Jaebum trailed off. Jackson sat there, not only feeling numb, but stupid and he gripped the edge of the bench because his hands were shaking.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. The catchy slogan echoed in his mind. He didn’t want that to happen. He didn’t want this—his beautiful Mark who he didn’t _kiss_ back, who he let just slip away—to stay in Vegas, without him.

Jackson couldn't explain it. They might not know where Mark was, but he was the one who was gone.


End file.
